


Don't Break Character

by flares



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Samosas, as per usual it's cheesy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:59:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flares/pseuds/flares
Summary: It’s all a bit mortifying. Zayn wonders how he ended up being the one embarrassed in this situation.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [niallszayn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niallszayn/gifts).



> Pia!!! Happy November 11th! Wow it feels pretty late this year! What a garbage human I am. Happy late birthday anyways, I hope you like this very belated gift!!! Thanks to Seren, Zane, and Stella for looking this over for me. All mistakes were made at 2am, probably, but are mine regardless.
> 
> Title from _Be Still_ by The Killers. (This is my third fic title that I got from a song by The Killers, jesus christ.)

When Zayn first meets Niall, he’s at his aunt’s wedding. 

Usually he wouldn’t ask, because there are definitely people here that Zayn’s never seen before, but this guy is scarfing down food like the world is ending, and hasn’t paid attention to any of the families’ speeches. In fact, Zayn looks over during the best man’s speech and sees the stranger crouching to the side of the table where he won’t be seen. Hiding, most likely.

It’s when everyone migrates to the dance floor—where Zayn wouldn’t be headed towards anyways—when he approaches him. His eyes go wide when he spots Zayn.

“Um, hi,” the stranger says, swallowing his mouthful. 

Zayn nods at him, raises an eyebrow. “Hey. Having a good time?”

The boy blushes and lets out a nervous laugh. “Ah, shit. Yeah, I mean, I am. Thanks.”

“So you weren’t invited, I assume,” Zayn says. The blush spreads down his neck, so Zayn takes it as a yes. “Did you crash for the food or for another reason?”

He looks sheepish when he replies, “For the food.”

“Right.”

“It’s just— The food smells _so good_. I work here, in this banquet hall. Like, I’m not working now, I promise, but I stopped by to pick up a jacket I forgot, and, like,” the boy pauses to sigh, and he looks wistfully back down at his paper plate. “I can’t resist a samosa, mate.”

Zayn can’t stop a laugh, then, and the boy looks up at him cautiously. “Know what you mean, actually. My mum made those.”

His eyes widen. “No way. You can just have these whenever, then?”

“If I ask, yeah. She’s teaching me how to make them,” Zayn says. The way this boy’s eyes somehow get more glassy with every word he’s saying makes Zayn chuckle. Trisha’s samosas are good, amazing even, but it looks like this guy hasn’t ever tasted anything this good. It makes Zayn feel proud, a warm swelling in his heart that his mum’s cooking makes other people so happy.

“Legend,” the boy mumbles. “Does she do catering?”

Zayn laughs. “No, but her samosas are a family favourite, and she loves to cook, especially for family. She’s… amazing.”

“I’m very jealous, then,” he says. He picks up another samosa and takes a huge bite, almost subconsciously. It makes Zayn smile.

“What’s going on here, then?”

Zayn turns around to see Trisha approaching them, eyes sparkling and expression excited. Only slightly concerning. “Hey, mum.”

“Zayn, you didn’t tell me you brought a date,” Trisha says, putting her hand on Zayn’s wrist and squeezing lightly. She sounds elated, which he wasn’t expecting, but he’s been single for a while so it’s understandable.

Looking back at the boy, Zayn sees his eyes have gone wide. His cheeks are even more flushed and his gaze is flitting back and forth between Zayn and his mum panickedly. There’s anxiety coming off of him in waves, which even Trisha must sense if her slight frown is anything to go by.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I just wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to make it. He, uh, just got off of work now,” Zayn quickly says. Anything to get that look off of the stranger’s face. Which—Zayn doesn’t even know his name yet. How did he get into this situation?

The boy swallows in a rush. “I’m very sorry about meeting like this. I’m Niall Horan,” he says, extending a hand forward for Trisha to shake. “I’m a very big fan of yours already. I’ve heard many good things.”

Trisha beams again at this, shaking Niall’s hand and asking, bashfully, “Oh, is that so?” 

“Your samosas are _amazing_ ,” Niall raves. “And Zayn here talks about you a lot. You’re quite the super mom, I hear.”

Zayn starts at that. Niall is right, of course, but he’s also going along with this so enthusiastically. Zayn didn’t expect him to play along more than a nod and hello, if he played along at all. 

“Aw, my sunshine.” Trisha laughs, pinching at Zayn’s cheek.

“ _Mum_ —”

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop embarrassing you now,” she says, pulling away with her hands up in surrender. “It was very nice to meet you, Niall.” She leans in again, whispering not-so-quietly, “We’ll talk more later,” before heading back to the dance floor. Unfortunately, she also flashes Zayn an unsubtle thumbs up, which Niall notices. Of course.

It’s all a bit mortifying. Zayn wonders how _he_ ended up being the one embarrassed in this situation.

“So, _sunshine_ ,” Niall says, grinning at him.

“Oh my god,” Zayn groans. “Shut up.”

“No, no!” Niall says, leaning a bit closer as the music gets louder. “It’s cute, I promise! Also you kind of saved me, so I shouldn’t be laughing at you.”

Zayn can feel himself pouting a bit, and tries miserably to school his expression into something more neutral. “Yeah, you shouldn’t be.”

They’re quiet, then, as the party gets louder and more ridiculous around them. After a minute of watching Zayn’s cousins aggressively dance battle in the middle of the room, Niall laughs again. It’s right in Zayn’s ear, and it makes him notice how close they’re standing together. Which is pretty close for two strangers, admittedly.

Zayn has to break the tension, then, even if it’s probably all in his head. “So my mum likes you,” Zayn says.

When Niall looks at him, he’s gone soft around the edges, nose crinkling with the force of his smile. “Yeah. She seems really nice.”

Zayn snorts, rolls his eyes a bit. “Don’t think about trying to date my sisters or something to get into the family. She’ll be happy to make you samosas if you ask, I’m sure.”

“I’m not!” Niall says, on the verge of a laugh. “Really I’m not. Definitely not interested in your sisters.”

The silence following feels weighted, and Zayn’s eyes narrow as he evaluates Niall. They’re still standing really close, and Niall looks interested… he thinks. Maybe.

“All right.”

“All right,” Niall parrots back. He pauses, then, “Your family seem to be big on dancing. Are you not into it?”

“Um, I’m definitely not,” Zayn says. There are videos on the internet of him dancing, and they’re enough to stop him from doing so in public. “The Maliks are dancers, though, yeah.”

Niall _hmm_ ’s, shifts so his body is facing Zayn. “Willing to make one exception? Think of it as a _thanks for not ratting me out_ dance.”

“Why would you thank me with something I don’t like?” 

Right away Niall looks disappointed, and Zayn feels a bit bad. Even though Niall is a stranger and Zayn definitely shouldn’t be on the verge of willingly making a fool of himself for him.

He is, though.

The disappointment passes quickly enough, and then Niall shrugs. “Okay, that’s fine. I don’t really know how else to thank you, mate, so I’m going to dance. I’m allowed now, since I’m your date.” He winks, and with a squeeze at Zayn’s shoulder he joins in with Zayn’s family.

He sticks out like a sore thumb, is the thing. His bleached blonde hair reflects the multicoloured lights, and his arms are flailing above his head in a much less co-ordinated fashion than his family’s. It’s ridiculous— _Niall_ is ridiculous—but Zayn finds himself wanting to know more about him. Like, someone who is so nice to his mum can’t be that bad, right?

It’s when Niall ends up dancing with one of his younger cousins is that Zayn gives. She’s standing on his feet, and Niall is spinning them around the dance floor. Everyone has to give them space so that they don’t get smacked with their hands, which Niall is waving around in over-exaggerated movements. The song ends, and Niall finishes with a dip, before Zayn’s aunt comes up to them, kissing Niall’s cheeks before she starts bidding the families goodnight.

Another fast paced song comes on, leaving Niall flailing on his own again, so Zayn downs the last of the fruit punch he has in his tiny cup and makes his way over. Niall looks delighted to see him, and Zayn’s doubts subside.

“Ah, so he’s changed his mind!” Niall beams, moving closer so he can be heard over the music.

“Just to save you from embarrassment,” Zayn says jokingly. The song playing is a Bollywood one now, and Niall is dancing hilariously badly. The least Zayn can do is make sure he isn’t the only one doing so.

Niall presses a hand over his heart in faux-offense, and Zayn laughs, shaking his head a bit before joining in with his family. He’s waving his arms around stiffly, shuffling his feet because he isn’t quite sure what to do with them, but no one seems to care. It’s a bit of a relief to only have Niall’s eyes on him, even if it puts his heart in his throat.

After a few seconds, Niall joins in with the pop-and-lock thing Zayn is trying to do with his arms, eyes sparkling under the disco ball. They giggle together, doing horribly outdated dance moves off-beat to the music. At one point Niall does the macarena and Zayn has to clutch his stomach with how hard he’s laughing.

Eventually, predictably, the song changes to something slower and people start pairing off. Niall looks at him with a small smile, and Zayn’s face starts burning up. Hopefully it passes off as being because of exertion. 

He’s about to tell Niall that he needs a drink of water, or that he needs to go to the bathroom, or _something_ when his mum catches his eye over Niall’s shoulder. She looks happy for him, and hopeful like Zayn hasn’t seen since before he broke off his last relationship a year ago. 

Zayn looks back at Niall, and he sees that he has his hand held out in question. Zayn takes it, because there’s _really_ no harm in it if he thinks about it, and he probably won’t see Niall again after this anyways. 

It’s not as awkward as Zayn thought it would be, thankfully. Niall is a bit dramatic in leading their movements, just enough to keep the mood light. What Zayn notices now that they’re pressed together is that Niall is really warm. And broad. And his hands are bigger than Zayn’s own. And also Niall is kind of his type. 

Niall tugs him a bit closer by the hand on Zayn’s waist. “So, um, if this is too forward or if you aren’t interested, don’t worry about it, but how would you feel about going on an actual date with me?”

“Well,” Zayn says, “if you want me to teach you how to make my mum’s samosas you’ll have to wait until she teaches me.”

“That isn’t really what I’m after, but that sounds great, honestly.”

Zayn laughs, pulling back a bit so he can look Niall in the eyes. “Seriously? Like, you really don’t _just_ want to date me for the food?”

“Of course not!” Niall says. “It’s _mostly_ for the food, but you have redeeming qualities, too.”

“Thanks,” Zayn says. “You’ll have to make it through a few dates before you reach samosa level, anyways.”

The song ends, but when Niall pulls away he keeps their hands connected. “I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.”

Something upbeat comes on next, prompting Niall to grin and start fist-pumping the air. All Zayn can do is join in, reflecting Niall’s smile back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm 100000% guilty of searching through your '#do want' tag for a prompt. This one seemed to fit them, tbh.
> 
> [Come say hi on tumblr](http://zot5.tumblr.com/), and please be kind.


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